


to know what to say

by finkpishnets



Category: DCU, Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-17
Updated: 2013-06-17
Packaged: 2017-12-15 06:47:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/846544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/finkpishnets/pseuds/finkpishnets
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Tim kisses Jaime it comes out of nowhere.</p>
            </blockquote>





	to know what to say

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on eljay 22/10/2012 for the [don't call them sidekicks](http://ivoryandgold.livejournal.com/46540.html) ficathon.

The first time Tim kisses Jaime it comes out of nowhere.

There’s been no particularly tough mission, they’re not all that close, and Tim isn’t the sort of person to do this kind of thing on a dare.

Still, one minute Jaime’s walking down the corridor, and the next Tim has him pinned to the wall, fingers curled in his t-shirt and lips pressed against his. It’s not the best kiss Jaime’s had, not by a long shot, and he doesn’t have time to even consider kissing back before there’s the echo of footsteps and Tim’s sliding away.

Tim doesn’t bring it up later, doesn’t so much as shift awkwardly in his seat, and for a moment Jaime wonders if he imagined the whole thing.

He can still taste espresso on his lips, though, and he’s never been much of a coffee fan.

 

+

 

The second time isn’t so much of a surprise, though Jaime’s head is still spinning from the blow he took earlier and he needs to make sure Bart made it out of the fight intact, so he’s not really focusing.

Tim’s eyes are squeezed shut and he’s favoring his left arm, and Jaime doesn’t understand why this is happening now, though he’d seen the determination on Tim’s face as he’d walked towards him.

This time Tim doesn’t wait for him to kiss back, just pulls away and stares at him for a moment, like he’s debating with himself, before disappearing back into headquarters.

There’s a moment where Jaime wants to call him back, ask _'why me?'_ and make Tim actually talk, but then Bart’s in front of him, speaking a mile a minute and unable to stand still, and Jaime’s pulled back into the chaos around them, too many other things to think about.

On the way home, though, he buys an espresso. Just to make it real.

 

+

 

“So,” Bart says, and Jaime flinches because he knows what he’s going to say.

“Yeah,” Jaime says. “It’s nothing.”

“Really?” Bart says, and he has that look, the serious one he gets sometimes that reminds Jaime that at the end of the day he’s more world-weary than any of them. “Or is it just nothing to you?”

“Oh,” Jaime says, blinking, and Bart nods, face clearing as he starts up the video game, conversation over.

Jaime feels like an idiot.

 

+

 

He picks up an espresso from the place by headquarters, the one that charges three bucks a cup and judges you when you order hot chocolate instead, and waits outside.

“Hi,” Tim says, when he shows, and Jaime thinks he’d look surprised if he ever gave anything away.

“Hey,” Jaime says. “This is for you.”

Tim takes the drink warily, making a tiny, pleased noise at his first sip.

“Thank you,” he says, and Jaime nods, scuffing his sneakers against the sidewalk.

“No problem,” he says. “I, uh, you know.”

“Not really,” Tim says, shaking his head, and Jaime sighs.

“Yeah,” he says. “Sorry, I’m not good at this stuff. I mean, I didn’t even realize there was stuff to be good at.”

“Oh,” Tim says. “I didn’t know I was being subtle.”

“I didn’t realize I was being dense,” Jaime says, “so I guess we’re even.”

Tim nods slowly, looking thoughtful. “So what now?”

“Third time’s the charm, I guess,” Jaime says, grateful that his hands are in his pockets so he doesn’t look quite as awkward as he feels, and he only relaxes when Tim smiles, ducking his head.

“That’s what they say.”

 

+

 

The first time Jaime kisses Tim they both see it coming.


End file.
